Only to spot a jet ski coming toward me.
I groaned and tried to swim faster, but it was no use.
The jet ski quieted to a hum as it drifted up beside me.
Kaspar looked down from his perch and tilted his head to the side.
I hated that look. It was blank and empty while at the same time being utterly judgmental and hateful. I knew him well enough to know nothing he did was an accident, and he cultivated this crazy, detached persona, but Kaspar was far from uncaring.
He cared more than anyone I’d ever met.
“Out for a swim?” he asked casually.
“I thought it might be nice. Good day for it.” I floated on my back, catching my breath.
“You should come back. There are sharks in these waters.”
“I know. I’m looking at one.”
He laughed. His eyes sparkled. He was a handsome man despite everything—despite how much I hated him. Pale blue eyes, sandy-blond hair, he looked like a Viking king or warlord or something like that. His shoulders and chest were covered in muscles, and his hands were big enough to grip and smash a coconut with ease. He had striking, severe features, and every girl I’d ever known that met him commented on how incredibly beautiful he was—while also being entirely disconcerting.
Kaspar Baskin, the beast of the Oligarchs. I hated him so much I couldn’t breathe.
Or maybe that was the salt water and the long swim.
“Come on, get on.”
“I’ll swim back.”
“Penny.” He said my name like a warning. “Climb on or I’ll drag you on.”
“I don’t think you will.” I splashed at him. “Gonna get your hands dirty for once.”
His lips quirked, head tilted. I was baiting him and he knew it.
“All right then, we’ll do this the fun way.” He stood then dove off the jet ski, slicing into the water like a knife.
I tried to swim away but he was so much bigger and faster. He grabbed my ankle and yanked, pulling me under. Air sputtered in big bubbles from my lungs as he held me below the surface. My eyes opened, the salt stinging and painful, and he was grinning at me before he pulled me back up.
I gasped and struggled. “You piece of shit. What’s wrong with you?”
He grabbed my hair tight and yanked my head back. “You know I’m not going to kill you. No use in having a dead wife.”
“I’m not your wife.”
He pulled harder. I gasped in pain as he kissed my neck. “You will be.”
“No.” I shoved him away and wrenched my hair free.
He caught me. He dunked me again. And this time, when I came up, he unlaced my top and ripped it off.
I slapped him twice before he caught my wrist. His eyes stared at my bare chest as I desperately kicked to stay above water while covering myself with my free arm. He grinned wickedly and released me, shoving me away and lazily floating, my bikini top bobbing on the surface a few yards toward the jet ski.
“Here’s what I’m thinking, my treasure.” He watched me carefully, still smiling, but there was no humor in his eyes. I worked hard to tread water while covering my breasts. “I can either give you back that top and let you return willingly, or I can strip you down and drag you back as a prize. I’ll parade you around my compound and let the staff see that gorgeous body of yours. Of course, I’ll have to kill the men, and some of the women, but your humiliation will be worth it. Which do you choose, darling?”
I hated him. God, how I hated him.
Because I knew he’d do it.
Kaspar was sick. Something was broken in him, the same thing that was broken in all of the Oligarchs, my brother Darren included. Their lives had twisted them into monsters, into beasts, and they obeyed baser instincts.
Dignity, freedom, human life, none of it mattered.
Only raw power and control.
“Give me back the top.”
He laughed and tossed it over. I tied it on the best I could.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew when it was time to fight and when it was time to run away, and right now struggling harder would only get people killed.
Kaspar wasn’t kidding when he said he’d murder half the staff for seeing me naked—even if it was his fault.
I swam to the jet ski. He watched me with unrestrained lust and excitement—his eyes roamed my body, from my toes to my lips and lingered on every inch between. I felt so watched and measured and wanted, and it disgusted me.
Kaspar was obsessed. I’d say he was obsessed with me, but I wasn’t so sure. His obsession manifested in an unbridled, unrestrained stalkerish need to have me for his own, but I didn’t think it had much to do with me in particular. I thought I could be any girl, only he chose me, and that was how it had to be.